


A Little Cold

by curadhstark, professional_benaddict



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Play, Ageplay, Asthma, Babysitter Quentin, Chronic Illness, Cold, Daddy Stephen, Daddy Tony, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Little Peter, Littles Are Known, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Quentin struggles, Sick Character, Sickfic, he wants to play bears, or Peter is having a hard time resting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:34:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27282751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curadhstark/pseuds/curadhstark, https://archiveofourown.org/users/professional_benaddict/pseuds/professional_benaddict
Summary: Peter is an energetic Little, so when he gets a cold, the boy does not handle being bedridden well. Luckily, Peter’s Daddies get a helping hand from the babysitter Quentin.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Stephen Strange, Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Tony Stark/Stephen Strange, Quentin Beck & Peter Parker, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Comments: 6
Kudos: 114





	1. Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Richie and I are at it again!! Here is another multi chapter little oneshot c: but this time we have Quentin (as a good guy sksk) We hope you enjoy darlings xx

The trouble is, a cold is not just a cold, not for Peter. And so this morning, the Stark-Strange household is in a state of slight chaos. 

The Daddies have to get to work on time, which usually works out just fine with their hired babysitter, Quentin, arriving half an hour before they are due to leave. That way, Stephen and Tony will have time to get ready while someone else can occupy Peter.  
But, today is different, because Peter has a cold. 

Due to the boy’s asthma, a cold could easily develop into a chest infection, and from there to a nasty case of pneumonia. Peter has suffered with pneumonia once, but that was before Stephen and Tony adopted him. That period of illness is still noted down in Peter’s medical history, and it was definitely not a nice experience. It took the boy a whole month to recover fully. But, that was before Peter was adopted, and Tony and Stephen will do everything within their power to prevent Peter from going through that again. And one thing that will help prevent pneumonia, is nebuliser treatments. Although, it is just too bad that Peter does not concur with that preventative measure. 

“No, no, baby. We have to do this.” Stephen says half sternly while working the settings on the nebuliser machine to prepare a treatment for Peter.

“But- but- but…!” Peter huffs as he sits on the side of his bed. He whines and flops onto his back, kicking his legs in frustration. He hates the nebuliser, the air tastes funny and he does not like the feeling of the mask strapped to his face. His Daddy insists on using it when Peter is ill, though, just like today.

“No, buts, Peter. Lets get this done with before Quentin gets here. Come on, sit up for me.” Stephen coaxes and grabs Peter under his armpits to get the boy propped up against the headboard of his bed. Then, he grabs the mask which is already steaming with the medicated oxygen. “Just 20 minutes, baby.”

Peter lets Stephen strap the nebuliser to his face, but he makes sure to have the most pronounced pout on his face so that his Daddy knows he does not like it. He reaches over and picks up his stuffie Berry, who is a pink teddy bear that smells faintly of strawberries, and sits her down on his legs while he waits.

“Good boy, baby.” Stephen smiles, patting the boy on the head before standing up. “You can watch something on your tablet in the meantime. Just call out if you need us, okay?” The doctor says, making sure Peter nods like he heard him before heading downstairs to continue getting ready for his work day.

Once alone, Peter looks around to see his tablet on the bedside table, and picks it up to choose something to watch. He watches one Paw Patrol episode, but every so often he has to stop and rub close to where the mask is against his skin. His Daddy says he is not allowed to take the mask off without his Daddies’ help, so Peter can only rub close to where the straps are, annoyed at the feeling of them against his face and head.

Meanwhile, downstairs Stephen rejoins Tony in the kitchen. The two caregivers already got Peter a bowl of cereal and fruit for breakfast, so now they can eat their own breakfast without worrying about Peter. The baby always eats first, that is just how it is. 

“Did he take the mask okay?” Tony asks when Stephen enters the kitchen. The duo got quite occupied with getting Peter to eat a light breakfast before sending him back to bed, so they barely had time to eat themselves. With a thanks, Stephen takes the half eaten piece of toast Tony hands him. 

“Yeah, he’s doing the treatment now. I think he’ll get in a better mood once Quentin gets here.” Stephen chuckles. 

Just then, the doorbell rings.

Up in his room, the sick boy hears the doorbell ring, and he whines in protest. The doorbell ringing means Quentin is here, and all he wants to do his usual routine of hiding in the living room for Quentin to find him. However, Stephen told Peter to stay in bed and use the nebuliser, so the boy does not move. That does not mean he is not upset about it though, and kicks at his covers to let out his frustration. His eyes burn a bit even, but he blinks away the tears before they can fall. 

After a few minutes of waiting, Peter hears footsteps coming up the stairs, and his heart rate picks up in anticipation and delight. Soon enough, Quentin enters with a slight frown. 

“Hey, buddy. Your Daddies said you have a cold. Aren’t you feeling too good?” The babysitter asks with a coo as he enters. He is more than familiar with Peter and his room by now, so he goes to sit on the boy’s bedside.

“Hmm. Haf'ta wear this dumb thing.” Peter pouts, pointing to the mask on his face. His tablet lays to the side of his legs on top of the bedcovers, all forgotten about now that Quentin is in the room. He likes Quentin, they get along well and Peter secretly thinks that Quentin is super cool and handsome, but he would never say that to the man’s face. 

“Dumb? I think it looks really cool!” Quentin cheers, tapping the tip of the mask lightly with his finger. Peter goes a bit cross eyed when following his finger, and the babysitter laughs at the adorable sight. “You’re like a diver with those masks! Or like an astronaut- or maybe not an astronaut, but- I think it looks cool.”

“Is cool?” Peter says quietly. If Quentin says that it is cool, then it must be cool. He picks up Berry and cuddles her close, still not entirely convinced that the mask is beneficial, or necessary even. “Don' like wearing it.”

“Hmm, I know. It won’t be much longer, I bet.” Quentin consoles and rubs at Peter’s leg through the duvet that he is still under. “How are you feeling then? Is it an owie throat kind of cold or just a headache or what?” The babysitter asks to try and get a better idea of the boy’s condition and feelings. Sure, the Daddies, and Stephen in particular, will give him a detailed description, but Peter’s perspective is the most important to Quentin. That is one of the things that makes him a babysitter, and not a third caregiver.

“Owie throat. Hard to breathe sometimes.” Peter says. The boy's asthma makes his colds much worse than a regular cold should be for a Little. “Uhm… Nose feels funny too. Blocked.” He points to his nose, but cannot touch it because of the nebuliser mask that is in the way.

“Hmm, I see. I’m sure your Daddies have some medicine and other tricks to help with that.” Quentin comforts and rubs at Peter’s thigh again. “You’ll be right as rain again very soon.” He adds cheerfully, but all he gets is a low hum from the boy in reply. 

It is definitely odd to see Peter like this. Sure, he has been sniffly and coughing a bit before, but the Daddies have been excellent at keeping Peter healthy, so this is the first time Quentin is seeing Peter properly sick. And if he is being honest, that makes Quentin a bit uneasy. 

The babysitter and Little sit in comfortable silence for a while, with Quentin rubbing at Peter’s thigh comfortingly. Meanwhile, the boy is watching the clock on his bedside table intensely. Then, when the clock says half past 8, Peter perks up with a grin. 

“It’s been twenty minutes!” Peter informs Quentin excitedly, and points at the mask on his face. Then, he calls out loudly. “Daaa! Daddyyyy!”

“It’s finished, huh?” Quentin guesses after Peter’s bellowing. The boy nods with a grin, and Quentin can feel how he is tapping his feet together under the duvet. Within a few short moments, Stephen enters the room. 

“You called, baby?” The doctor asks. 

“'S done now! Take it off, please.” Peter says, remembering to use his manners at the last second. He wiggles where he sits, excited for the mask to come off. He really hates wearing it.

“Okay, okay. Well done for doing your treatment without a fuss, baby.” Stephen praises, although with a tiny hint of sarcasm, as he removes the mask from Peter’s face and turns off the nebuliser machine. The sarcasm goes over Peter’s head though, and he claps his hands in delight. 

“So, should we move to the sofa and watch a movie? I can make you some hot chocolate when your Daddies leave.” Quentin suggests.

“Nooo… I wanna play bears!” Peter says, and holds his hands up with curled fingers like he is trying to imitate bear claws. He bares his teeth and growls, but it does not sound particularly intimidating with how weak his voice is due to his cold. 

“I’m not so sure, bud...” Quentin grimaces without much force in his voice. Instead, Stephen steps forward and uses two fingers on Peter’s forehead to push his head back on his pillow. 

“Nu-uh, mister. You’re staying in bed or on the sofa till your fever is gone. No ifs, ands or buts. That’s doctor’s and Daddy’s orders.” Stephen chuckles a bit.

Peter flops back onto the pillow without much fighting, but he blows a loud raspberry in Stephen's direction to make it clear that he does not like his orders. 

“Wanna play bears!” He huffs, and tries to poke Quentin again to get a fun reaction.

Quentin feels quite stuck now. On one hand, he has Peter who is expecting him to play with him, just like they do every weekday. And then, on the other side, he has Stephen who has definitely got a look on his face, daring Quentin to go against him. Naturally, the doctor wins. 

“I’m sorry, bud. You heard what your Daddy said, yeah?” Quentin says apologetically, rubbing at Peter’s leg again. It is also a tiny effort from his side to keep Peter in bed, and not have him hop out any time soon.

Peter huffs, put out by the grown ups not letting him play. He turns over on to his side dramatically, facing the wall with Berry in his arms. He is a bit of a drama queen when he is ill, and Stephen simply rolls his eyes.

“I’ll be back for lunch to check on him. Just to be sure this cold won’t develop into pneumonia. He had that a few years ago, and it was not pretty.” Stephen says, filling the awkward silence Peter made by showing his obvious disapproval of the grown ups’ decisions. “Think you can manage till then?” 

“Yeah! No worries, man.” Quentin replies and pats at Peter’s hip, hoping for a positive response now that Stephen has headed out of the room. “We’ll have fun watching movies, yeah?”

“Hmm. I wanna watch Moomins!” Peter replies, but does not turn away from where he is facing the wall. He kicks his legs some as well, but continues to cuddle Berry close. At least Berry has not tried to betray him today.

“The comet movie maybe? I haven’t seen that one yet.” Quentin continues, not at all discouraged by Peter’s mopey mood. With some more hip rubs, the babysitter slowly works his way up Peter’s body to his upper arm. He helps the boy turn onto his back, so that they are eye to eye. “Are you done with your pouting now, lil’ grumpy pants? Should we get downstairs?” Quentin coaxes, opening his arms for Peter to climb into.

Peter pouts, but slowly sits up and clambers onto Quentin's lap. 

“'M not grumpy pants. You grumpy pants.” The boy mumbles with a slight cough, loosely holding onto Berry with one hand so that she is not left behind.

Quentin chuckles softly in response and gets Peter situated comfortably in his arms before rising up. Peter hooks his chin onto Quentin’s shoulder so he can look over his back as Quentin carries him downstairs.When they enter the kitchen, Tony is preparing two travel cups of coffee and offers the rest of the coffee in the pot to Quentin. When Quentin turns to get some coffee, Peter cannot help smiling at Tony despite his grumpy mood. Tony is the nice Daddy today, he was not the one that made Peter use his nebuliser. 

“Some for me?” Peter asks, also turning to look at the coffee pot.

“Oh, no, baby. You can have some tea instead. Would you like that?” Tony suggests. The boy does not usually have tea, only on special occasions. Plus, he always needs a grown up watching him so he does not burn himself. But, with Quentin around, that should not be a problem.

“Uhm... Yeah, the fruit one. ‘N Daddy puts honey in it.” Peter says. He says it like it is a reminder for Tony, but also an explanation for Quentin in case he was not aware that you can put honey in tea.

“Oh, I see. Makes it a lot tastier, huh?” Quentin coos and bounces Peter lightly in his arms. The boy hums in reply, watching from the corner of his eye while Tony starts preparing him a cup of fruity tea. 

“Have you given him any meds? He feels a bit warm.” Quentin points out to Tony. Even though Peter is just in pyjamas and barefoot, he still feels warm against him. 

“Yeah, Stephen gave him some ibuprofen and a suppository. He wasn’t happy about that.” Tony chuckles lightly, patting Peter’s behind while passing by to get the kettle which has boiled.

Peter squawks in surprise at Tony patting his butt, and he pouts at the man as he makes his way past. 

“Don’ like suh- suh puh- don’t like them ones.” He mumbles, turning to start fiddling with Quentin’s top button of his shirt.

“Yeah, those are real yucky.” Quentin sympathises and rubs Peter’s back while holding him up with his other arm. “But, you took it anyway, right? That’s what big boys do.”

“Hm? Oh... yeah! Yeah, I did. 'M a big boy.” Peter nods, and puffs his chest out so that Quentin will believe him. The man's word is like gospel to Peter, and it amuses his two Daddies to no end. Quentin could probably tell him to walk into a wall and he would do it no questions asked.

“That’s the Peter I know and love.” Quentin chuckles and pinches Peter’s cheek lightly, making the boy giggle and squirm. 

While Tony is mixing some honey into Peter’s tea, Stephen enters the kitchen as well, all dressed for work in an ironed shirt and slacks. His CEO husband is a bit better dressed with a tie and jacket as well, but they still make a handsome couple. 

“There, I’m ready. And you?”

“Just finishing making Peter's tea. Won't be two minutes, babe.” Tony says, and leans over to Stephen for a quick kiss. Peter scrunches his face up in disgust, but giggles to show that he is not serious. At Peter’s giggles, Stephen turns his attention to his boy currently in Quentin’s arms. 

“Do you want some kisses too, baby? We are heading out in just a bit.” Stephen says, stepping a bit closer.

Peter is torn. The boy is still upset at Stephen for making him use the nebuliser, but he does like the kisses he gets from his Daddies. After a moment's hesitation, he leans forward with his lips puckered so that he can get some kisses.

“Aww, there’s my puppy love.” Stephen coos and leans over to cover Peter’s face with kisses. “I’ll come by around 11 to check on you, okay?” The doctor asks, pulling back to stroke back the boy’s hair. “Be a good boy till then and just relax with Quentin, all right?”

Peter glances over at Quentin, who is watching him with a fond look. He does not want to relax while Quentin is here, he wants to run around and play bears and have tickle fights. But, Daddy is clearly serious about him resting on the sofa. Still, Peter is smart, and makes no promises. 

“Hm.” Peter hums quietly and turns back to Stephen. “Love you Dada.”

“Love you too, baby. I’ll see you soon!” Stephen says and blows kisses in Peter’s direction while heading to the front door with his travel cup in hand. Grabbing his own cup, Tony also comes over to pepper the boy with kisses before heading off. 

“Will you be okay with Quentin here? I can ask Pepper to cancel my plans today.” Tony says, but before Peter gets to answer, Quentin does for him. 

“We’ll be just fine. You go to work, Tony, and we’ll see you later.”

Peter nods, and waves a little hand in Tony’s direction after receiving his kisses. The three of them head to the main hallway, where Tony and Stephen wave at Peter and Quentin one last time before heading out for work. Once the front door closes, Peter flops his head down on Quentin’s shoulder. 

“Tea?”

“Yeah, let’s get you your tea and watch some Moomin.” Quentin smiles and bounces Peter lightly before heading back to the kitchen so that they can start their day of relaxing and recovering. Or so Quentin thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you sm for reading! Do you think Quentin will be able to handle Peter? We'd love to know what you guys think <3  
> The next chapter will be up next Friday!!


	2. Midday

Just after five minutes of the two sitting down to watch Moomin, Peter starts acting up. First, he keeps squirming to get comfortable on the couch, and then he sits up so he can lean against Quentin. Eventually, his concentration on the TV disappears entirely and he is back to poking Quentin in the arm and whining in his ear. However, the boy did manage to drink his tea, so dehydration is not a concern, but over tiredness might just become a serious problem soon if Peter does not settle down. 

“Wanna play beeeears! C’moooon, Quen’in, don’ like sittin’ here.”

“Buddy, you’re sick, remember? If we start playing bears now, you’ll just get more sick.” Quentin reminds and wraps an arm around Peter to keep him against his side. Hopefully, that will help him settle, but Peter just squirms under him, trying to get free. “Peter, buddy, please. You gotta settle down.”

“Nooooo...!” Peter shakes his head, and tries to push Quentin’s arm off him. He huffs when he cannot get free, and begins whining even louder. He is about to complain again when his throat begins to hurt, and he starts to cough. Quentin was just about gently scold Peter for not settling already, but when he gets into a coughing fit, the babysitter starts rubbing his back instead. 

“It’s okay. Just cough if you need.” Quentin encourages gently, although he makes sure to pay close attention to if he has to get Peter his inhaler.

The boy coughs for a few seconds, but soon recovers. Once he does, he goes back to poking Quentin in the leg, trying to get him to play. The momentary cough fit did nothing to dampen Peter’s spirits and will to play, despite his current state. 

“Don' wanna watch TV, Quen!” 

“I-I know, buddy, but we really can’t do much else.” Quentin stutters at first, trying to come up with an alternative activity that just might keep Peter occupied, as well as resting. “How about I read to you? Would you like that?”

Peter simply whines in response and flops over on the couch, not willing to cooperate at all. 

“Don't like bein' ill!” The boy cries in frustration, and curls up away from Quentin just like earlier that morning. He does not even hold onto Berry, he just sulks where he is facing the back of the couch.

Quentin sighs quietly and rubs at his stubble while he thinks of what to do. But, the trouble is that he has not done this before. Peter is such an energetic Little that Quentin has never had to deal with him when he is supposed to be bedridden. He has never had a reason to be bedridden, except for now. And the babysitter must adapt. 

“I hear you, bud. Although we can’t play bears today, we could maybe draw them instead? I could print out some drawings for you or we can just use our own imagination.”

Peter very slowly rolls over to face Quentin at that idea. He thinks for a moment. He does have nice colouring pencils upstairs, and Quentin has never seen him draw anything. This might be his chance to impress the babysitter, and maybe then he will let them play bears. 

“...You draw with me?” Peter asks tentatively.

“Of course! I can draw for you even.” Quentin promises, but then raises his pointy finger at the boy. “But, only if you keep your lil’ butt on the sofa, okay? That’s my one condition.” The babysitter chuckles lightly, hoping Peter will not see his attempt at keeping the boy resting as much as possible.

“Hmph.” Peter huffs at the agreement, but does not move from the couch when Quentin stands up. “But- But you don’t know where my- my nice pencils are! They’re all different colours, you dunno where they are! I’ll show you.”

“They are on the green shelf, right? I know where they are, bud, so you just sit tight and I’ll get them. Okay?” Quentin bargains and ruffles Peter’s hair. “I’ll be right back.” The babysitter promises, and heads upstairs to the boy’s room to fetch his colouring supplies.

Peter pouts at his failed attempt to get up off the couch. He crosses his arms and stares moodily at the TV screen, which is paused on the Moomin movie they were watching earlier. Just like promised, Quentin returns quickly with the colouring supplies in hand. He sets them down on the coffee table, and lets Peter grab the drawing pad. 

“What kind of bears are you going to make then?” The babysitter asks, grabbing the second drawing pad for himself.

Peter shrugs in response, now staring down at the drawing pad in his lap. His throat is beginning to hurt him again, but he does not say anything. He looks over at Quentin, who is watching him with a sad but fond look on his face. 

“I- I dunno.”

“Hmm, how about-” Quentin pauses, making a dramatic thinking face to amuse Peter. The boy giggles a bit before coughing lightly. “How about you be my model? You get super cozy on the sofa here, like a baby bear going to sleep for the winter, and I’ll draw you! As a bear, you know?”

Peter purses his lips in deep thought. 

“But... I wanna draw too.” He mumbles, holding up his drawing pad to show Quentin. How will he get to wow Quentin with his awesome drawing skills if he is sleeping on the couch?

“Okay, okay, let’s draw together then.” Quentin bargains, patting Peter on his back with a smile before grabbing a dark red marker to start drawing. “Which colours are you going to use?”

“Uhm... green.” Peter says, grabbing one of his green colouring pencils to start drawing. Green is not his favourite colour, but he likes the idea of green bears. He starts very carefully drawing the head of the bear, his tongue poking out between his lips as he draws.

Finally, Quentin thinks with an inward sigh. Finally, Peter is still. He is sat on the sofa, occupied with a low effort activity, but an activity nonetheless. Feeling quite accomplished as a babysitter, Quentin starts relaxing a bit and focuses on his own drawing. How does one draw bears again?

A few minutes of silence passes, aside from the little scratches of pencils against paper. Peter looks up at Quentin every so often, and the babysitter seems to be engrossed in his drawing. Little by little, the boy slips down from the sofa until his feet are touching the floor, and the boy stands up. Quentin does not notice him moving, and so the boy toddles away from the sofa, trying not to giggle.

“How’s it going with yours, Pete? Did you- oh, Peter?” Quentin asks, dumbfounded by the empty spot next to him on the sofa. This could be bad. Really bad! “Peter, bud. Did you need the bathroom?” The babysitter asks, and stands up to go search for the boy.

Peter is now in the hallway, and when he hears Quentin approaching, he immediately begins to giggle. Now the babysitter will have to chase him, and that will be like playing bears! He tries to toddle away as quickly as he can, carrying his notepad and pencil with him, but the running soon makes his chest feel tight, and the boy begins to cough.

Oh, oh! Peter is smart, but he is not smart enough to know that this could end badly. Quentin knows though, and he tries to be stern all the while keeping his cool. 

“Peter, buddy, we can’t do this. I know you want to play bears, but we really can’t. Let’s get back to the sofa and we can continue colouring.” The babysitter explains while resisting the urge to chase Peter. That will just excite the boy, and that is the last thing he wants to do now.

Peter takes another few steps when he sees Quentin coming around the corner, and continues to giggle raucously. That only makes his cough worse though, and the boy has to stop moving while he tries to clear his throat. Thanks to Peter’s coughing and need to stop, Quentin catches up with the boy easily. He crouches down in front of him to study the boy.

“Hey, take it easy, tiger. This is what your Daddies and I were afraid of. Do you need your inhaler?” The babysitter asks and rubs at Peter’s back.

Peter whines and shakes his head, trying to move away from Quentin so that he can start running again. Quentin's arm around his back stops him from moving any further, but he tries to wriggle around regardless. His coughs only get worse, and tiny tears prick at the corners of his eyes. 

“Hey, hey, okay, that’s enough.” Quentin decides, and despite Peter’s weak protests, he picks the boy up into his arms. “You’re getting a huff and puff from your inhaler.” The babysitter says with a sing song voice to try and keep the mood lighthearted. He does not like how Peter’s coughs are sounding at all, so best to get the inhaler now before the boy needs an ambulance.

“Noooo!” Peter cries, shaking his head again as Quentin brings him up to his bedroom, where the boy's inhaler is kept. He is kept in Quentin's arms as the babysitter leans down to get the boy's inhaler from the medicine cupboard in the corner of his room.

“I’m sorry, bud, but we have to. This will make it easier for you yo breathe.” Quentin explains and tightens his grip on Peter to prevent him from falling. “Open for me, please? Then we can start making yummy lunch, yeah?” The babysitter tempts and shakes the inhaler.

Peter wants to purse his lips so that Quentin cannot put the inhaler in his mouth, but he is suddenly hit by another coughing fit. He coughs for a few seconds, and then Quentin takes the opportunity of the boy having his mouth open to quickly put the inhaler inside.

“There.” Quentin smiles a bit and pushes the top of the inhaler to release the medicine. He timed it perfectly, and Peter inhales most of it. The boy even holds his breath for a bit before releasing it and coughing. “Good boy! Look at you. I’m so proud of you, Pete.”

Peter pulls a grumpy face at his babysitter, unhappy with having to use his inhaler. He does not like using his inhaler as the medicine tastes funny, but at least the medicine does not taste as bad as the nebuliser.

“How’s that? Is that a bit better?” Quentin asks and rubs at the boy’s back while he continues coughing, but not as harshly as before. It still takes some time for the inhaler to work, so Quentin is not stressing yet. But, he starts to when he hears the front door opening. For a split second, the babysitter meets Peter’s eyes, and they both just know. 

They know the trouble they both are in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you sm for reading? Do you think Stephen will be mad? ;-;


	3. Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen comes home, like he promised.

Peter whimpers at the sound of the front door opening. The last thing he wants if for Stephen to see him coughing so much, because then his Daddy will put him on the nebuliser again. He hides his face in the crook of Quentin’s neck, still whimpering and wheezing.

“Right...” Quentin exhales, and tries to think of what to say to the doctor who has returned back home, like he promised. “We’re up here!” The babysitter calls out to the doctor. While they wait, Quentin bounces Peter in his arms as tries to sooth him as best as he can.

Peter does not move from where he has his face buried into Quentin’s shoulder, and his own shoulders shake as he tries to hold in his coughs. The gentle bouncing does little to soothe him, and the two of them know that Stephen is going to insist that they use the nebuliser to get Peter more oxygen.

As soon as he steps into the Little’s bedroom, Stephen knows something is awry, and Quentin can tell. The doctor heads to the medicine cabinet, and takes out a small device. It is like a clip, and he pushes it open with two fingers and places it on Peter’s middle finger. It is a pulse oximeter, Quentin realises. 

“You okay, sweetheart? How are you feeling?” Stephen asks gently. The doctor’s tone catches Quentin off guard a bit. He had totally expected the doctor to start a lecture already, however his tone is as gentle and caring as ever. 

Peter reluctantly pulls away from Quentin’s shoulder to look at Stephen, his bottom lip wobbling as he tries not to cry. 

“Not good...” The boy mumbles, lifting his hand to rub at his face.

“Hmm, is your chest owie?” Stephen asks and gestures for Quentin to hand the boy over. The babysitter does so without question, and takes a step back to let the two of them converse. Sure, he is close to Peter, but he is not his Daddy. “Did you use your inhaler?” Quentin hears the doctor ask in a hushed and comforting tone.

“Quen’in... Quen’in made me use it. Tastes icky, Da.” Peter mumbles, holding tightly onto his Daddy and feeling the texture of the ironed shirt he is wearing between his fingers. “Throat feels owie, Da...”

“We can sort that out, no worries. I’ll get you a cough drop after you use your nebuliser again.” Stephen says and pats Peter’s padded bum comfortingly before setting the boy down on his bed. Then, he starts setting up the nebuliser once more. “Did you get all excited, baby? And that’s how you started coughing?”

Peter and Quentin both glance nervously at each other, but the look goes unnoticed by Stephen who is setting up the nebuliser. 

“He just got a bit excited to show me his new colouring pencils. We were gonna draw some nice bears together weren’t we Pete?” Quentin steps in to say, saving Peter from having to admit that he ran away. That makes the boy feel a little guilty, but he does not say anything, and instead he simply nods along.

“Hmm, Daddy and I did tell you to be in bed or on the sofa today, though. Didn’t we?” Stephen points out while lifting Peter’s head a bit to get the mask on his face. Even with the mask situated, Stephen continues to cup Peter’s cheek, stroking his cheekbone with his thumb. “But, I guess it can’t he helped. You’ve got ants under your skin, hm?” The doctor adds with a chuckle.

Peter shrugs, looking away from the two grown ups, wringing his hands nervously. 

“Don’ like wearin’ this, Dada...” He mumbles, starting to get upset again.

“Just 20 minutes, okay? And the after, Quentin can get you one of the yellow cough drops in the cabinet.” Stephen says and ruffles Peter’s hair, then turns to Quentin. “I have to get back already. You sure you can manage?”

“Yeah- Yeah, we’ll be fine.” Quentin nods, watching the boy who is gradually getting more and more upset. Peter usually has his heart on his sleeve, and it is easy to see when he is upset, but right now the boy is trying his best to hide it from his Daddy.

“All right, then I’ll be heading back to work.” Stephen announces before leaning down to kiss Peter’s forehead. “You be good till Daddies get back, yeah? We’ll have lots of cuddles and watch anything you want. And we’ll bring you some yummy soup from the store. Okay? Love you, baby.” The doctor gushes and kisses the boy a few more times.

“Want tomato...” Peter tells Stephen the flavour of soup he wants quietly. Stephen can only kiss his jawline and the edges of his cheeks because of the mask Peter is wearing, and the boy hates it. Quentin moves to sit beside the boy when Stephen heads towards the door, and Peter waves weakly and says a quick ‘I love you’ before the doctor leaves.

Once alone, Quentin shifts his gaze to look at Peter on his bed. He looks like he is about to break into a million pieces, and Quentin feels a sharp painful stab of sympathy for the boy. 

“Hey, Petey...” The babysitter starts and invites Peter into his arms.

Peter does not waste any time clambering into Quentin’s arms. The inhale of air he takes is sharp and wobbly, and the boy finally begins to cry. He cannot even hide his face because of the mask, which only makes him cry harder.

Quentin knew this was coming, but he is still a bit surprised by just how sad Peter’s cries sound. Due to the mask being in the way, Quentin tries to prop the boy’s chin up on his shoulder comfortably while holding him. 

“Shh, it’s okay. I know this sucks. It sucks a bunch, but you’ll be okay.”

“Don' like it!” The boy wails sadly, his little body shaking as he sobs. He hates all of this, he hates the mask and his inhaler and his icky throat and how he cannot breathe well. His fists tighten themselves in Quentin's shirt, holding the two of them as close together as possible.

“Shhh, I know, I know. I hear you, Petey.” Quentin sighs sadly. He really feels for the boy, and perhaps too much even, which is preventing him from finding the right words. Nonetheless, he keeps holding Peter tight and rubbing his back gently to comfort him, to let the boy know he is there for him.

Peter's tears run down his face and onto Quentin's shirt from where he has his chin resting against the man's shoulder. His wailing gets louder for a few seconds, but then he eventually calms down to sniffles and soft whimpers, but still does not let go of Quentin's shirt.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay. There? That’s better, hm?” Quentin says soothingly while rocking Peter gently till he quiets down to just sniffles. The babysitter eases his hold on the boy a bit, but only briefly to grab a tissue from the bedside table. Gently, he wipes Peter’s eyes dry, then his face, and finally pulls the mask off to wipe his nose and mouth. “You’re okay, bud. I know this sucks, and we can talk about it all you want.”

By the time that for Quentin finished cleaning Peter’s face, the 20 minutes that he is required to wear the nebuliser comes to an end. Quentin removes the mask from his face and sets the equipment to one side, and then hugs Peter even more tightly than he was before. 

“Don’ like it... ‘n Dada makes me wear it... Don’ wanna wear it!”

“What about it makes it so bad?” Quentin asks, rubbing steadily up and down Peter’s back. Perhaps exploring the boy’s thoughts will help them both understand better about why Peter dislikes the mask so much. Peter has to take a few seconds before he answers. 

“Is just... don’ like it. Uncomfy ‘n- ‘n tastes icky. Don’ like it cos it’s sad.” The boys says, moving his head off Quentin’s shoulder so he can nuzzle his face in against the babysitter’s broad chest.

“Hmm, is the medicine the ickiest thing you’ve ever tasted?” Quentin asks and moves his arms to continue to hold Peter when he slides off his shoulder.

“Hmm! Even ickier than- than cabbage.” Peter huffs, and pulls a face at the thought of cabbage. “My inhaler‘s icky too. Don’ like any of it. Wanna breathe... wanna breathe by myself.”

“Yeah? You wanna breathe just fine without medicine?” Quentin rephrases, and Peter nods confidently at him in return. That is definitely understandable, Quentin thinks. It is just reality however, since there is no cure for asthma, nor for colds for that matter. It is just something one has to power through. “Hmm, I get that. Having asthma really does suck. Is there any positive to it, though? Do you think?”

“Uhm... my Daddies take care of me?” Peter suggests. Because of how severe his asthma is, his Daddies are very careful to check how he is breathing and to make sure he is not doing anything that could trigger his wheezing fits.

“Hmm, they do. They would take care of you even if you didn’t have asthma, but because of your condition they have to take care of you extra carefully. That’s kind of neat, yeah?” The babysitter suggests in return, bouncing his leg lightly to get Peter to bounce as well.

“Hmm.” Peter shrugs. It is pretty neat, knowing that his Daddies take such good care of him. “Still don’ like it.” He mumbles, but it is far quieter and with less frustration than before.

“Hmm, that’s all right.” Quentin says and lifts Peter up into his arms before standing up. “As long as you remember that the medicine and the mask and everything else is all meant to help you. That’s super important to remember.”

The boy squirms to get comfortable in Quentin’s arms, nodding along to what his babysitter is saying. 

“Where we goin’ now?”

“We still haven’t had lunch yet. I thought you might be hungry.” Quentin explains and rubs at Peter’s puffy cheek. Although it is true, he does not add how Peter must be extra hungry and weak after such a heavy cry. That can be left unsaid though, and instead Quentin hums a random song under his breath while bringing Peter downstairs to the kitchen.

“Can we have... the lil’ sausages? Daddy bought some.” Peter asks, pointing to the fridge where most of the food from the Daddies’ grocery shop is. He whines in protest when Quentin tries to put him down in his high chair, insisting on staying in the man’s arms.

“Ah, okay, bud. I got you.” Quentin smiles and adjusts his grip on Peter so that he is holding him with one arm. It seems like the boy is not ready to be put down yet. “How about- those sausages and some crackers? We got some cherry tomatoes too. That should be good.” The babysitter muses and begins gathering all the finger foods into a wide bowl.

Peter hums in agreement, and watches as the babysitter puts his food in the bowl with one hand. He carries the bowl over to the kitchen table, but then takes Peter back to the sink so that the boy can wash his hands before he eats. Peter sticks his hands under the water and washes them quickly, holding them up to Quentin to show that he’s all clean.

“Good boy. Then, let’s dry you off so you can eat.” Quentin muses and gets two paper towels for the boy to dry his hands. Then, he helps Peter to sit in his high chair. “Try not to stall, okay? I want you on the sofa and resting as soon as possible.” The babysitter says with a smile and ruffles Peter’s hair.

Peter scrunches his face up when Quentin ruffles his hair, and starts to eat his lunch. He swings his legs back and forth in the high chair as he eats, making whining noises whenever Quentin jokingly tries to steal one of his tomatoes.

As Peter continues to eat, Quentin can see how his mood is gradually getting better as well. He can also see that the boy is swinging his legs, which is another good sign. But, towards the end of his meal, Peter’s head is starting to droop, and his blinking is getting slower. So much for that little spike in energy. 

“Are you done, bud? I think we should go cuddle on the sofa next.” Quentin says and brushes back Peter’s hair from his eyes. Peter nods, holding his arms up and making grabby hands so that Quentin will pick him up. He smiles when Quentin takes him into his arms. 

“Cuddle time…” The boys yawns, plastering himself against Quentin like the man is a giant hot water bottle.

“Hmm, we’ll cuddle all you want.” Quentin says fondly as he heads to the sofa. With Peter still in his arms, he gets comfortable by laying back and pulls the blanket over himself and the boy. “How’s that? You cozy, little puppy?” The babysitter coos.

Peter nods with his face squished up against Quentin's chest. 

“Puppy... I wanna puppy…” He mumbles, slowly squirming underneath the blanket. “We tell Daddies to get me a puppy?” He asks, looking up at Quentin pleadingly.

“I meant you’re the puppy. Your Daddies don’t need a second puppy if they don’t you, silly.” Quentin chuckles, dodging the question. But, he makes up for it by rubbing Peter’s back.

“Hmph.” Peter huffs a little breath against Quentin, and when the man’s hand travels up his back to brush the hair from his face, he tries to nibble on the babysitter's fingers. “Puppy!” He giggles, making gentle 'woof!' noises under his breath.

“Shh, it’s time for sick puppies to rest now. Do you need a paci to nap?” Quentin asks, but when he tries to pull his fingers from Peter’s mouth, the boy protests with a sharp whine. “Okay! Okay, you can suck on ’em.”

Peter smiles when Quentin concedes and lets the boy suckle on his fingers. He closes his eyes and snuggles in close to Quentin's chest, and the soft motion of sucking on the babysitter's fingers lulls him gently to sleep.

Once Peter falls asleep, the boy remains of the sofa for the rest of the day. He naps on top of Quentin for over an hour, and then some more even after Quentin wiggles out from underneath him to head to the bathroom. While the boy is fast asleep, Quentin checks his temperature under his armpit. Surprisingly enough, Peter does not stir at all, and continues snoring and breathing softly even when Quentin moves his arm to check his temperature. The thermometer shows just a mild fever, and Quentin praises Peter in a whisper before letting him sleep some more. 

The next time Peter wakes, an hour later, the babysitter is sat next to him on the sofa, eating and enjoying a cup of coffee. 

“Hey, bud. Did you sleep well?” Quentin asks when Peter stirs next to him.

Peter rubs tiredly at his eyes as he sits up on the sofa, and makes eye contact with the babysitter who is watching him. He nods slowly, and part of him wants to flop back down and go to sleep again. 

“Dreamed of... of green bears.” He mumbles, stretching his arms out and making a cute little groaning sound as he shakes his limbs out.

“Green bears, huh?” Quentin chuckles as he watches Peter yawn and stretch. The babysitter is not quite sure what it is about the boy’s mannerisms, but he reminds him a lot of a bear cub. Sleepy, and just woken up from a long winter hibernation. “Your Daddies are on their way home. They just texted me and said they are going shopping first.”

“Yay!” Peter cheers, but it is quiet and sleepy as the boy clambers into Quentin's lap. He flops against the man and hums under his breath, liking how big and warm the man is compared to him. It is like having his own giant teddy bear to cuddle.

“Hmm, there you are. You just sleep some more if you want.” Quentin muses quietly and rests one hand in Peter’s messed up and slightly sweaty curls. It seems like his fever is breaking. With his other hand, the babysitter continues to sip at his coffee. 

The two of them sit in comfortable silence for half an hour or so before the front door opens. Quentin gently shakes Peter awake. The boy blinks awake from where he was dozing on Quentin's shoulder, and looks over to see his two Daddies coming into the shared living room and kitchen area with bags of shopping. 

“Daddies…!” He says, holding out a small hand for the two Daddies to come and say hi.

“Hey, sweetheart!” 

“Were you sleeping? Aw, I’m sorry we woke you up.” Tony coos and comes over first to pick Peter up from Quentin’s lap, then gives him a big, welcoming smooch on his flushed cheek. “How are you feeling, pup? You’re not so warm anymore.”

“‘M okay. My throats still icky.” Peter says, also pressing a kiss to Tony’s cheek as he is lifted up into his Daddy’s arms. “Me ‘n Quentin napped a whole bunch. It was nice.” He says, playing with the fabric of Tony’s shirt and pressing his face up against Tony’s.

“Yeah? That sounds wonderful, baby. Just what the doctor prescribed, hm?” Tony hums and sways Peter in his arms so that he can see Stephen as well. The doctor also leans over to give his greetings with kisses to Peter’s forehead. 

“Your fever broke, huh?” 

From the sofa, Quentin rises up with a hum. 

“Yeah, he started sweating half way through his nap.”

Stephen nods in understanding, and turns back to Peter. He raises a hand up to run his fingers through Peter's curls, and notices how his hair is slightly damp with sweat. "Well done for resting baby, I know you like playing fun games with Quentin, but it was better for you that you stayed relaxed.”

“Hmm…” Peter shrugs, still blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

“Would you like some tomato soup now? Or do you want a bath first?” Tony asks, also noticing how sweaty the boy is from rubbing his back.

“Bath! Wanna play with Sharky ‘n the boats.” Peter replies immediately, and Tony hoists the boy up on his hip. Stephen gives Peter a few more kisses, and then Tony and Peter head off to the bathroom, Peter babbling quietly about his bath toys the whole way.

“Was he well behaved today?” Stephen asks Quentin, now that the Little is out of earshot.  
The babysitter gulps a bit at the doctor’s question, and for a second he considers how to answer. But, very quickly he reaches the conclusion that he has to tell the truth, even if Peter does not like it. 

“He had a hard time during the morning after you two left. He just wouldn’t settle and then right before you arrived around lunchtime, he was running around widely and making himself all out of breath. Part of that was my fault though. I should have paid more attention to him.”

Rather than tell Quentin off, though, Stephen merely chuckles and shakes his head. 

“The boy can be a bit of a menace when he wants to be. Don't be too hard on yourself, if anything it just taught him that he should listen to me when I say he needs to rest.” The doctor smiles, and Quentin finds himself smiling back.

“He was fine after lunch, though. We did the nebuliser treatment and then I fed him lunch and he took a nap. He was like a barnacle, refused to let go of me the entire time until he was asleep.”

“That’s good. Perhaps he needed to wear himself out properly before resting.” Stephen points out, and Quentin nods in return. 

“You don’t think the bath will get him all fired up again, though? I can stay and give you an extra hand if you need while preparing dinner and such.” 

“Oh, thanks, but I think we’ll manage. Peter gets quite sleepy after bath-time. Anything warm and cozy is like an off switch for him.” Stephen chuckles.

The two men go back and forth for a while, discussing Stephen's work and the plans they have for the upcoming week when Peter and Tony come back into the living room. Peter's in Tony’s arms, bundled up in a green frog towel, complete with a hood that is tugged up and over his head. He looks incredibly soft, and Quentin smiles at the boy.

“Hey, there! Are you all squeaky clean now?” Quentin asks with a coo and squeezes a few of Peter’s toes teasingly. The boy pulls his foot back with a squeak and giggle. “I bet you’re feeling a lot better now.”

Peter nods. The steamy hot bath helped clear the boy's sinuses a bit, and he always feels warm and cosy after a bath regardless. He rubs his face up against Tony's shoulder and blinks slowly in Quentin's direction, not remotely the hyperactive little monkey he was that morning.

“I’ll get you that soup now then. Say thank you to Quentin for today and say bye bye!” Tony says and waves at Quentin for Peter to copy him. 

“Bye bye, Peter! I hope you feel better very soon, and then hopefully we can play bears on Monday. Yeah?” Quentin says, waving at the boy with a warm smile.

“Yeah...! We play bears again. Buh-bye.” Peter waves a tiny hand at Quentin, but not for long before he is clutching onto Tony’s shirt again and wriggling in his arms to get more comfortable.

“Bye, see you next week!” Tony calls out as Quentin heads out the door, waving to the little family until he gets in his car and drives away. 

“Now, let’s get you some food, puppy love. You need something in your tummy to fight off this cold!” Tony muses into Peter’s hair, kissing his temple.

Peter turns his head when Tony kisses his temple, and puckers his lips so that Tony will kiss him there too. He giggles at the flurry of kisses the man gives him, along with the pokes to his tummy. 

“Tomato soup.” He nods, and together the three of them head back into the house with Peter safe in his Daddies arms. With their help, he can fight off this yucky cold, and then on Monday, he can play bears with Quentin again!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you sm for reading! We’d love to know what you think about our good guy Beck c: Imma be real and call out Richie and say that he’s got a real soft spot for Beck... hehe >:3


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